Pages

Wednesday, June 27, 2018

Dear America,

there is a portrait of a woman hanging just above my desk.

the color palette is primarily bronze and malachite green, with swooshes of gold and brown, and assuming acrylic, possibly oils...she is very pleasing to the eye in multiple dimensions. Her expression is warm, though looking down. Her lips are full, her face soft, and leading one to believe she is either contemplating something significant or simply deep in prayer. She doesn't appear sad in the least bit -- more soul-searching, reflective, or taking a moment to collect herself.

Most striking of all, is that her head is covered, wrapped around with some kind of cloth; if I didn't know any better, she could very well be the spitting image of Mary of Magdalene, or even Mary, mother of the baby Jesus. This girl is all woman, and definitely not of this (modern) world.

and there is not one day that goes by that I don't look at her.

sometimes it's a mere, almost accidental, clareless glance
and sometimes it's a long, contemplative gaze taking me somewhere -- as in, anywhere, but here.
in any event, she is usually my first glimpse of anything close to human on any given day.

and I like it.

If I were to describe my mood these last few days, this portrait of some unknown woman captures it.

These days mark an end to an era. And although perfectly okay with it, almost elated and overjoyed -- it comes with this deep sense of bidding farewell, of valedictory, to a time that was and isn't ever coming back.

My baby girl is finished with school, swiftly embarking upon her career years, and with a Hail Mary or two, is doing so miles and miles away from home. Oh "Holy Mary, Mother of God!" -- how does this happen in a matter of a blink of an eye, in God's time...

Was it even celebratory enough -- given the profoundness of such an occasion -- to have her last meal fulfilled with an In N Out burger and not even any fries? I think not.

Come Sunday morning, that little flying monkey of mine took the air right out of my sails. It feels like I've been bobbing around, sans all navigational equipment, for weeks now -- and it's only Wednesday. Oh "blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus."

And yet, such is life.

THIS IS LIFE...watching her life expand and grow and move beyond whatever shelter I may, or may not, have given her, over her twenty one years. The symbiotic nature of mother and child offers mutual benefits for both -- be it the role of teacher and student, parent and junior, suffice it to say, the lines can occasionally get awfully fuzzy, like a smudge of golden rules and cerulean dreams, the canvass is in constant play.

it is such a beautiful thing.

------------------------------

politics just isn't doing it for me these days;
while our culture is frayed, obsessed with petty divides and the tragic loss of any semblance of civility. ugh.

my wish this morning is for one, come all, to take intentional stock of what is right in front of you...for time and children and love and life are not static; though they may sit for a moment, for a portrait, perhaps, these precious things do not stand still for long...and we wouldn't have it any other way.

Oh how I love my blessed child, who is no longer all mine.

She is of the world now.

And thankfully, the immaculate design of the entire universe is in full tilt,, giving way to whatever we can dream or imagine. Every purpose and portrait under heaven is in motion and deep in thought congruently and seamlessly and graciously, if we are open to It.
May God bless you and keep you, baby girl.

Thursday, June 21, 2018

Dear America,

oh the acronyms of today's social media. boy, how they can sometimes make a girl feel her age.

take this one for example....yeah, that one at the top and given top billing.

so after googling it, come to find out, it stands for "that feeling when."

guessing, like the use of most acronyms, if used often enough, they become just part of the language itself; the habitual use becoming representative of the culture, in the vernacular, and even a gauge, revealing the heights of sophistication (and it's depths). And unless you're old.... like me... the average joe or jane doesn't need to stop and look it up, they would just know. The words would just come to mind without a web search or hesitation. boom.

And yet, taking a look back of how we spoke, how we wrote, and the pure elegance of it all, back in the day of our nation's founding, begs the question -- has the modern world grown more cultured, or less? Have we expanded our language skills, our ways of communication, to its highest and best use of our native tongue, be it a reflection of a moment or a turn of a phrase, even if its only seen on an Instagram post, a Facebook comment, and the like? In other words, are using these acronyms an improvement? Is this really where we want to go?

Sure, these aren't necessarily sophisticated modes of communication. And yet, they are. Just look at the various forces of technology combined with the complexity of the social circle these days, and we got ourselves a serious network of bits and pieces, of interaction and emotion, of life and times meeting up in the ether and exploding on contact.

But imagine, a hundred years from now...someone would literally have to have the code to understand some of our Instagram messages in their entirety.

But let's get on with it, shall we? I have a lot of empty blog space to make up for (such is the day in the life when my girl comes home for a wee bit, when my man comes with a complete set of two lively boys, when my nanny gig hours nearly double with the official start of summer, when my latest involvement with the DAR has led me to lead the entire chapter....)

Trey Gowdy had an opportunity to go ballistic over the report of wanton bias at the FBI....Thank you, Political Editors @The Patriot Post [We might as well skip the separation and go straight to divorce proceedings....]

isn't it crazy how much is going on in this world...it's like, WTF...the lazy hazy days of summer have not a chance in hell from happening. Oh TFW this girl could sell lemonade on the corner and immediately spend every dime at the Pit n' Patio for the best pizza pie in town...circa 1972. good times. good times.

And yet, I was ten.

And it was way before the man-made universe revolving around smart phones and acronyms.

My world was about as big a two mile radius -- accompanied and fully protected in the loving arms of two parents, a couple of lively brothers, a dog, a cat, a roof over my head with ample time to play Monopoly with my best friend Holly.

I didn't know of Bloody Sunday in that same year; I didn't know of the Watergate scandal; I didn't know about Jane Fonda visiting North Vietnam; I didn't even know there was a mere 3.8 billion people on the whole wide earth. [nod and thanks to Pop Culture Trivia]

I believe, in part, that my life felt reasonably secure back in the day of 1972, because I was allowed to be a child, fully insulated from the world beyond my immediate scope or necessity. The world could wait; maturity would one day come; but in the meantime.... make lemonade, eat pizza, rock those bell bottoms, girl, for you still have to wait a whole 'nother year before singing along to Benny and the Jets, and way too young to see The Godfather.

The thing is -- in hindsight, and maybe its just me -- but it feels like the whole world was young in 1972. It took a long time, in today's standards, to know just what was going on around the world. From Polaroids to press passes, progress keeps on keeping on....

"I want to be clear on a couple of the things. The vast, vast majority of children who are in the care of HHS right now, 10,000 of the 12,000, were sent here alone by their parents. That's when they were separated. So somehow we have conflated everything. There is two separate issues — 10,000 of those currently in custody were sent by their parents with strangers to undertake a completely dangerous and deadly travel alone. We now care for them. We have high standards. We give them meals. We give them education. We give them medical care. There's videos. There's TVs. I've visited the detention centers myself," she added. "That would be my answer to that question."

What kind of parent does this?A desperate one.Who is picking up the tab?The Americans -- with, or without, a clear understanding of a growing list of modern day acronyms. [please note... that no other country in the world has ever been this generous.]oh TFW...I was telling my girl how I had started to write this blog, like, two weeks ago, leaving the first couple of paragraphs in total limbo with no real time to return in sight. And wasn't it heartwarming to hear her ask me, what does that stand for again?Oh my, how happy is the day. With her next question revealing even more -- can you warm me up some of those [Morningstar] fake-chicken nuggets?In the micro, oh how time can sometimes stand still for just a split second. But in the macro, seems the world has a whole lot of growing up to do...but more on that another day.But now to the big finale -- oh to that feeling when I finish a blog; there is nothing like it in the world. Take care of you and yours, who knows when I'll be back.Make it a Good Day, GAND WITH REGARD TO ALL THE LINKS @THE PATRIOT POST -- go there NOW and make a donation during their Independence Day fundraising drive.

subscribe to gthing

Followers

G Speaking to You

Everything we do today will fall into the hands of our children. This isn't anything new, of course. But today, more than ever, we must recognize our inherent birthright to live responsibly as caretakers of the Earth, our America and each other.

We each have a duty not only to this country but deep down in ourselves, to becoming responsible, independent, loving people who thrive in the creation of a rich and fruitful life, a life we can be proud to pass down to future generations.

When observing your personal efforts with respect to Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness, to whom do you serve? To whom does our Government serve, if not directly to the American people?

Government is not making our life better and we must wake up and be a part of doing something about it.